


Cappucino Prince

by Mamacallie



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: M/M, Modern AU, Pining, auguste lives!, coffee shop au but not how you think, damen is the passive aggressive king, do you think love can bloom even on the battlefield, doting brother, kastor is a dickhole, laurent is petty, your words cant hurt me these shades are gucci
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-03 18:29:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11537985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mamacallie/pseuds/Mamacallie
Summary: "My brother kept me up the entire night being insufferably inquisitive.", Laurent said, frowning."Is that so?" Damen raised an eyebrow, curious.Laurent huffed a little. "If you must know, he was asking about you."Smirking, Damen leaned on the counter. He looked very smug, indeed, as he motioned for Laurent to continue."He wanted  to know why I didn't invite you in, and whether you would be giving me more rides home in the future. He seemed very insistent that you come visit since out problems are resolved." He scowled as he wiped up some spilled cream. "Apparently he thinks the prospect of us being friends is... cute.", he said, a little derisively.Damen laughed helplessly at that, unable to shake the image of Laurent's older brother sitting on the end of his bed and badgering him with questions endlessly.





	Cappucino Prince

**Author's Note:**

> Based on an RP with my super fantastic friend Blake!
> 
> Sorry it's been so long since my last fic, CP or otherwise! I'm hopefully going to get back in the swing of things and start posting more work. 
> 
> That being said, I am sorry to say that Going Nowhere will not be updated or rewritten, and I doubt Gilded Decorations will be continued either. However, hopefully I'll get some new, better mchanzo fics out there!

The coffee shop hadn't been open for very long, but somehow managed to have a strong and steady stream of customers everyday, and Vannes insisted Laurent go with her so she could try it out. It's not that she wanted to share the experience with him, but Laurent was pretty good at deterring anyone and everyone who might want to approach either of them. Laurent begrudgingly agreed to be dragged inside and sat in a plush arm chair as they waited for their orders. Vannes sat daintily on her own seat, talking at length about various parts of her life that Laurent honestly wasn't all that interested in. Her new car, her job, pets, girlfriend. When Laurent didn't respond, staring off toward the coffee counter, Vannes huffed. 

"Really, Laurent, you should find someone to take that sour look of your face.", she said

"I'm not sour.", he told her simply, eyeing the large barista at the counter (large wasn't exactly the word for it, but it was apt enough for Laurent). "I'm simply indifferent."

Vannes sighed and rolled her eyes, following Laurent's gaze as she tore off a piece of the pastry she'd bought. The barista was smiling brightly, almost flirting with a pretty blonde girl as he handed her a small coffee. "He's cute.", she said.

"I suppose, if you're into that kind of thing."

"What kind of thing? Tall, muscle bound, and handsome? Who wouldn't be into it." 

The girl lingered for a bit, laughing coyly at something the barista had said. It was obvious, at the very least, that she was flirting. The barista seemed into it.

"Maybe that's his type.", Vannes said. 

"Vapid?", Laurent asked with a smirk.

"She has similar coloring to you, I mean."

Laurent turned away and looked at Vannes. The barista had an almost captivating smile, and it wasn't often Laurent found himself attracted to anyone but Vannes had been right. Who wouldn't be into tall, muscle bound, and handsome?

"Are we still talking about that?", he asked sourly. "Let it go, I am in no mood to find a date."

"There are so many benefits, Laurent. It might help you loosen up."

"Forgive me if 'being ravished on the daily' doesn't exactly pique my interest."

Vannes pouted, shoving the rest of her pastry in her mouth. "I hope our coffee is done soon.", she said, her mouth still a little sticky with jam.

 

A few moments later, they heard "Vannes?" being called from the counter. "Finally!", Vannes had said with a huff. She dragged Laurent to the counter with her, and he pretended not to notice the barista staring at him. Vannes had been right; the woman flirting earlier had similar coloring to Laurent, and by the look on the barista's face, that was exactly his type. 

"Vannes, you have two perfectly capable hands.", he said as they approached the counter. 

"Yes, but it seems my free hand has been suddenly struck by a very serious and mysterious illness that keeps me from using it until we reach our seats again.", she replied dramatically. 

Laurent rolled his eyes, smirking slightly as he reached for the drink held out to him by the barista. Unfortunately, it turned out the barista was either completely distracted or completely incompetent, as the coffee cup dropped to the counter top without even reaching Laurent's hand. Coffee splashed everywhere, drenching the front of Laurent's shirt almost entirely. 

"Oh!", the barista exclaimed, quickly grabbing a rag and trying to clean up the mess. "I'm so sorry, I don't know how I managed that." The rag wasn't much help with the shirt, so he grabbed some napkins and offered them to Laurent.

Laurent stared down at the spill, face unreadable, before glancing up at the barista and calmly taking the napkins from him. Vannes, however, was much less calm about the whole thing. She'd gasped loudly at the incident and immediately tore into the barista.

"Do you know what that is?!", she exclaimed, fuming and furious. "That's Chanel! That top is probably worth more than your LIFE!"

Laurent quietly dabbed at the coffee on his shirt as Vannes went on an absolute tirade about the travesty that had occurred, assuring the barista he was lucky they didn't get him fired. When he'd finished cleaning the mess, Laurent looked at the barista again briefly before quietly tapping Vannes' shoulder and walking away. 

 "Oh- Lau-" Vannes huffed, glaring at back at the barista. "Next time I'm calling your manager.", she said angrily, quickly following Laurent out of the shop. 

 

 

Surprisingly, Laurent returned the next day, this time without Vannes and her endless chatter. He ordered the same coffee as the day before, and waited patiently at the end of the bar for it. He was difficult to read, but the vibe he put off was enough to freeze the entire shop. 

The same barista was working again, too, and he struck up a conversation with Laurent as he made the drink. "Sorry again about yesterday.", he said.

"Convenience beats quality, I suppose.", Laurent said coolly, picking lint off his shirt. "I doubt it's the store's fault you're a klutz.

The barista frowned, finishing the coffee and scribbling something on the cup before setting it down. Laurent picked it up and stared at the name for a moment. "Chanel", it said, the pettiness and bite behind it apparent. 

"Actually,", he said, shifting his gaze to the barista's name tag as he spoke. "Damen. This is Prada. If you want to antagonize me, perhaps you should get your facts straight."

"I would, but some of us care about important things, not clothing brands.", Damen said, smiling. "Have a nice day."

They stared at each other for several long moments, stuck in a stand off of sorts. The tension and hostility between them was almost palpable, and set people around them on edge. Finally, Laurent spoke. "Who said I found it important?", he asked, turning to leave before Damen could reply. He breezed out of the shop as coolly as he had entered.

 

The pattern continued for a while; Laurent would come in and order the same coffee at the same time nearly every day, and make a snarky remark about the brand of clothes he was wearing. Damen would smirk, writing whatever Laurent said on his cup. Most of the time, Laurent's expression never changed, but occasionally he'd be smirking, too. Laurent wondered if he was flirting, and resigned himself to the fact that he was.

The pattern stopped abruptly when Damen had the misfortune of catching Laurent in an agitated mood. Things had started off innocently enough, Laurent ordering coffee and pointing out his clothing designer:

"It's Dolce, today, if you're feeling snarky.", he said.

Damen laughed. "No, no. I'll write your name this time.", he said, brewing the drink. "It's Laurent, right?"

Laurent hummed absently, watching Damen with an almost bored expression. "You seem much less hostile these days."

"And you seem less cold." Damen shrugged. "I just don't want to lose my job over a petty fight."

"Considering your grudge against me is  baseless, I'm almost surprised you haven't yet."

"I'm surprised you keep coming here for coffee." Damen poured the drink and very obviously wrote 'Larent' on the side. "Here you go. Anything else?"

Laurent brushed the misspelling off and sipped his coffee and he looked at Damen. He gave the barista a quick once over and said, "I find this place interesting." Without further explanation, he took the coffee and sat in an armchair, legs crossed easily as he pulled a book from his bag and began to read.

However, his mood soured as time wore on. After half an hour, he'd drunk his coffee and ordered another, adding a danish to go with it. He seemed agitated, and, to someone who'd been watching him, like he'd been waiting for someone who hadn't shown. 

"Everything alright?", Damen asked, passing the danish across the counter. 

"What happened to that  grudge?",Laurent asked, taking the danish carefully. "Or are you just distracted by a pretty face?"

There was the barest hint of a smirk on his face as he tore off a piece of danish and ate it, eyes like ice and fixed unmoving on Damen's.

"Just making conversation.", Damen told him sourly.

"Quite presumptuous of you."

"I was worried you thought I'd poisoned you, mostly."

"If I thought you'd poison me, I'd have to stop coming here.", Laurent said. "And then where would I have all my fun?"

"Well, I'm glad you're having fun at least.", Damen said, writing 'Laret' on the coffee cup and handing it to Laurent.

His smirk faded and he pushed the cup back across the counter. "You spelled my name wrong."

"My bad. I'll get it right tomorrow."

"No", Laurent said, petulantly. "Make me another."

"I'm sure you'll find that a misspelled name doesn't change the flavor of the coffee."

"I'm sure you'll make me another."

Damen opened his mouth to reply only to be shut up by his manager telling him to just make another one. Laurent watched, idly eating his danish as the process repeated over and over. With every variation of his name, Laurent pushed the cup back and demanded another. His attitude remained as indiscernible as the look on his face, and the shop began to grow silent as other patrons watched, too. 'Lurent', 'Larry', 'Lurant', 'Launt', and 'Lame' were all pushed back across the counter. Scowling, Damen wrote 'Lavender' on one and nearly spilled some of the coffee as he set it down. 

"At least this one is pretty.", Laurent said. "What a shame purples don't suit my coloring. Again." He pushed it back with the others. The counter was filling up with coffees and the line was getting a little backed up.

The next one said 'Tnerual'. Laurent almost laughed at that one. "I have no plans.", he said. "I can go indefinitely."

Damen replied with a cup that said 'PRICK' in bold letters. "Oh, this is rather nice I think." Damen smiled, only to scowl again as Laurent said, "I'm sure yours is too small for my tastes, but the offer is flattering."

Sloppily preparing another, he shoved a cup baring the name 'Laverne' into Laurent's hands. Laurent sighed. "How disappointing. I was hoping you were getting creative." Picking through the coffees to find the original offender, which had now gone cold, he said, "You're beginning to bore me."and with one final cold look at Damen, he quickly left the shop. As the doors closed behind him, a million thoughts about what he'd just done raced through his head and he scowled. Auguste wasn't going to be happy with him, and he wasn't looking forward to the lecture he'd receive when Auguste found out.

 


End file.
